


Safe And Sound

by hinotoriii



Series: Oscar Trevelyan [15]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 03:09:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3365492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hinotoriii/pseuds/hinotoriii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oscar learns the hard way how all it takes is one brief moment to stall in a fight before the tides on the battlefield are turned. Along with everyone else Dorian worries as he waits for him to wake back at camp, whilst Vivienne spends some of her time preparing more potions to aid Oscar in his recovery later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe And Sound

**Author's Note:**

> A few things:
> 
> 1 - As I wrote the beginning of this, I imagined Bull, Sera, Oscar and Dorian to be battling against the Crestwood high dragon. In this verse it counts as the first high dragon they've fought, hents the excitement (well, Dorian's not really excited. But he doesn't get the whole ... dragon craze that the other three have going on. Especially Bull and Oscar). That might help to picture seeing as I know all the dragons have their own different attacks and tricks. 
> 
> 2 - Vivenne's magic would have healed Oscar's cuts and grazes, along with the majority of damage done to any of the bones he's broken/sprained. _However_ , I imagine time would still be needed to heal the more severe breaks properly as well as the bruising. He'll be well enough for the journey back to Skyhold, but still recovering of course. 
> 
> 3 - Oscar is a dumb-dumb. Never hesitate in a dragon fight, folks.

Oscar laughs joyfully, spinning his staff over his head and shooting another spell at the dragon they’re fighting. From somewhere to his right he hears the sound of Bull letting out another booming roar of his own, battle-axe in hand once more as he rushes towards the magnificent height of the creature before them for another attack.

The fight has been going on for so long that they're all running mostly on adrenaline by now. Light cuts litter Oscar’s fingertips and across his face, telltale traces of where stray lightning the dragon blew his way has grazed against his skin a few times. If it weren’t for the excitement thrumming through his very bones Oscar knows that by now his feet would be aching with each calculated movement he made out of the dragon’s path, that his attention would pull more towards the way his breathing has grown heavier out of exhaustion or how his hands have begun to ache at where they’re clenched tightly around his staff. 

The same is said for Bull and Sera; the two drawing so much from their own excitement that it aids in making them all the more energetic in their attacks. Sera often disappears from view only to reappear near the dragon somewhere else, the large grin she wears each time illuminating the kind of game she’s playing; whilst Bull fights like a machine, running forward head-on at the right moments to _hack, cut, slash_ against the tough scales his blade faces. Even Dorian – who does not share so much in their awe over the creature itself – is still managing to find some enjoyment from the battle. Each spell he crafts is an art form, a bright and vibrant crescendo that dances around him before being thrown against their foe, and each hit that draws a loud cry from the dragon has his lips tilting upwards into a successful smile. 

Another hit of a spell cast her way followed by another powerful slash against one of her front legs has the dragon releasing another deafening roar, and Oscar notices the very subtle way she stumbles slightly from the attack. 

“She’s starting to go down!” He shouts over the noise, spinning off another spell in haste. “Give her everything you've got! It won’t be long now!”

The dragon manages to find her footing, turning her head in an attempt to catch Sera with another fierce strike of lightning as the elf creeps around her once more. Sera hops out of the way just in time, dodging the attack and firing off an arrow against the exposed weak spot on her leg as she does. It hits its target dead on, causing the dragon to let out another roar of pain. In a desperate move the dragon starts to flap her large wings, causing everyone to quickly move out of their range.

Everyone except for Oscar, that is.

He’s unprepared, forgetting for a split second just how much more dangerous a wounded animal can be as it fights and pulls at every last trick it has for its own survival. That split second moment costs him dearly, and before he can even blink let alone jump to safety one of the wings hits him hard against his front, the force managing to push him backwards and into one of the few remaining stone pillars which have not yet crumbled. A loud smack is heard as his back meets stone, the impact strong and sending a painful wave of shock throughout his entire body as he lets out a cry.

There’s a desperate far-off call of his name, yet Oscar’s mind is too jumbled to figure out who it is that the voice belongs to. All he can feel and focus on is the pain, a pain that begins to mix itself with the growing cloud of exhaustion he’d been fighting. He begins to fall, and Oscar’s vision grows black before he even manages to meet the ground.

* * *

 ****When he slowly begins to blink to wakefulness, Oscar doesn’t know where he is.

His brow deepens at first, eyes clenched closed as he fights off the blinding light of sun filtering into … well. Wherever he is. A groan leaves his lips at the unusual discomfort he feels pressing against his chest, and once he grows used to the light Oscar opens his eyes properly.

He realises then where he is: it’s in one of the tents at the new camp they’d set up a few days previous. Oscar’s eyes slowly travel around him, quickly picking up how there’s a gap in the tent entrance that allows the sunlight to leak it’s way through. Covered over him are the layers of soft furs and cloth which he usually brings with him to help keep him warm throughout the colder nights camping, and mixed among them is one which isn’t Oscar’s yet he’s still able to recognise. It belongs to Dorian, and Oscar frowns in confusion as he wonders how it is he manages to have it.

Oscar tries to shift to sit up slightly, yet stops himself quickly once the pain in his chest hits again. He rests a hand against the spot where it forms as he looks down, quickly being met with the sight of a large bandage wrapped around his middle and up most of his chest. Oscar only realises then that he’s very much shirtless, and suddenly the selection of furs surrounding him makes a lot more sense.

 _“Maker’s breath,”_ He says around a breath of his own, rubbing one hand against his forehead as the other remains resting gently upon the bandages. His thoughts feel as if they are swimming around deep within his mind, just a little bit too far out of reach right now for him to grab them and put anything he's missing or forgetting into any sense of order he can understand.

There’s a rustling sound at the entry to the tent, and Oscar’s attention turns to see who it is that enters. He’s quickly greeted by the very familiar and welcome sight of Dorian, who soon comes to a halt once he realises that Oscar is awake. Oscar watches quietly as Dorian’s eyes widen – in what he guesses is a mixture of surprise or relief, although Oscar cannot tell which is more prominent out of the two – yet after quickly glancing over him that look morphs into one of anger. 

“You’re a bloody idiot, you are,” Dorian starts, pointing an annoyed finger towards Oscar. Oscar feels the way his brow furrows into a bewildered frown.

“That’s a rather odd way to say hello.”

He expects some sort of quirk of a smile to fight its way upon Dorian’s lips or for him to sigh as his shoulders relax at the attempt of a joke. Instead he is met with neither, but rather irritation as Dorian ignores him in favour of slowly beginning to walk towards him, his hands moving animatedly as he speaks.

 _“’Let’s all go and fight ourselves a dragon,’_ he says. _‘It’ll be fine, no one will get hurt as long as I can help it_ ’. Of course, _you_ were the one too wrapped up in your own excitement over the damn thing to pay proper attention to what was around you, weren't you? How difficult is it for you to jump out of the way of a giant dragons wing? They’re not exactly all that hard to spot coming towards you after all!” 

Oscar winces as Dorian’s voice begins to rise in volume. The hand that had been pressed against his forehead before moves to rub against the back of his neck rather sheepishly, and he carefully stretches it out, attempting to work out the stiffness which had built for however long he's been sleeping.

“Ah,” Oscar answers, his mind beginning to finally piece together the events of what had happened before he blacked out. It’s a very efficient reminder into understanding why Dorian is so upset with him. _“Now_ I remember what happened.”

“You mean you _forgot?”_ Dorian asks, eyes going wide again for a brief second. A moment passes before he let’s out a sigh, shaking his head. _“Vishante kaffas_ , it’s like you’re trying to see how annoyed with you I can be right now.”

“I promise you, I’m really not.”

Dorian stops walking and sits down next to Oscar's side, careful so as not to hurt him any further in the limited space the tent provides. Oscar watches him as he does; taking note of the dark shadows that are gathered beneath the younger mans eyes. Guilt sinks itself deeply within his gut at the sight of them, knowing that if it weren’t for him Dorian wouldn’t look so drained, nor be so worried.

"You say that, yet you're really doing it well this time around," Dorian lets out another sigh, looking down as he reaches for one of Oscars hands so he can squeeze it tightly within his own. Oscar squeezes back in a way he hopes can convey his attempt at reassurance enough; that he hopes helps to remind Dorian that he's here with him and he’s safe. "How are you feeling right now? Good? Bad? Perhaps like you were literally thrown against a wall?"

Oscar attempts to laugh at the latter question, but the pain he feels from the action causes him to catch himself from doing so. He let's out another groan instead, leaning his head back against the pillow he's resting on and staring at the material of the tent above him.

"I ache, if that means anything. And it hurts if I move or act too fast, so please try not to make me laugh too much if you can Dorian."

"I’ll try, yet I can’t promise to succeed on that one. However it is of no surprise to me that you ache,” says Dorian, sharing a small, sad smile Oscar’s way. “That dragon hit you as hard as she could and succeeded in the process. We were worried about moving you from where you hit the ground with not knowing what damage the impact may have done to you. Luckily once the area was safe Bull picked you up as if you weighed nothing and carried you back to camp. I suppose Qunari can be useful for something, after all."

Knowing that laughing wasn’t the best thing for him to do Oscar instead smiles humouredly at Dorian’s words. He moves his free arm to rest against his head, letting his eyes fall closed tiredly as he shares a hum in response.

“So tell me. What's the damage this time?” He asks.

“Better than was expected, thank goodness. You had a few broken ribs, a sprained wrist from the awkward way you fell when you blacked out. Those were nothing that a little bit of healing magic couldn’t help to fix. You have however managed to bruise a few of your other ribs also, apparently. There’s not much magic can do for that sort of thing I’m afraid, which is most likely half the reason why you ache. That, and Vivienne expects that you’ll still have trouble with your wrist for a little while despite her healing touch.”

Oscar expected as much. Now that Dorian had mentioned it, he was sure that the wrist in question felt a little … uncomfortable compared to usual. He supposes that he got away lucky even with the injuries he has however, and Oscar is at least thankful that the dragon didn’t decide to try and electrocute him afterwards just to finish things off.

“I’m guessing this is the part where you tell me that I’ll be feeling much worse once I’m up and walking about again, yes?”

“You don’t miss a trick even when you're injured, do you? Good to know,” answers Dorian.  Another breath escapes his lips, his tone returning to seriousness as he continues to speak. “You’ve been given a good load of potions to help ease the pain for now. Once those begin to wear off, I don’t know how you’ll be feeling. Worse is a good guess. You'll have to tell us if something seems particularly wrong though.”

Opening his eyes again, Oscar turns his head slightly to watch Dorian. His expression has turned sad once more, and even when his eyes dart up to stare back at Oscar’s, he doesn’t attempt to wear a smile as he usually might. Instead his brow begins to crease again, and Oscar notices the way Dorian’s hand in his squeezes a little tighter.

“Do me a favour if you will Oscar, and don’t _ever_ pull such a stupid, careless stunt like that again. Forgetting yourself whilst battling a high dragon -- and you’re the one that’s constantly attempting to reassure me that it’s not as dangerous as it seems as long as you’re _maintaining your focus on the battle.”_

Oscar reaches forward to press his hand against Dorian’s cheek, his fingertips meeting soft, warm skin. Dorian moves to cover it with his own hand, pulling it away slightly so that he can press a light kiss to Oscar’s palm, gripping tightly afterwards as if to reassure himself that Oscar is with him right now. It pains Oscar, knowing how scared Dorian had likely been; seeing it written upon his face and in his actions so clearly. Oscar wants to help take that fear away, wants to prove to Dorian it's no longer something he has to consume himself with.

“I’m sorry,” Oscar murmurs quietly. “I didn’t mean to worry you. You know that. I’m alright, see? I’m sitting here before you now and I’m _fine_. Well, with a few extra cuts or bruises here or there -- but otherwise I’m alright. I've been through worse and lived to tell the tale."

Dorian’s stare bores into him, remaining there for a long moment before he’s shaking his head again, pressing Oscar’s hand back against his cheek and holding it there.

“You’re the _Inquisitor._ A beacon of hope for us all. If any of us needs to take the most care whilst fighting out there, it’s you. Forget all those other heroic moments where you've come out alive by the skin of your teeth, you have to be on your guard in battle at all times. Even in the simplest of fights things can go wrong if you don't. And if something were to happen to you --” Dorian pauses, swallowing whatever emotions had begun to build up within before forcing himself to continue on. “I think it shocked us all to see you thrown to one side so easily out there. It wasn’t like the times before; it happened so quickly I couldn’t put a barrier up to shield you, no one could get to you to push you out of the way in time. We couldn't _do anything …”_

He says no more, yet Oscar understands the things which Dorian leaves unsaid. He lets his fingers brush against the skin of Dorian’s cheek, the touch seeming to calm Dorian somewhat as he allows himself to give in and relax in Oscar’s company. Now that the shock is starting to wear off Dorian’s fears begin to evaporate somewhat, and Oscar can only continue to feel sorry that the fears were present because of him in the first place.

“What happened to the dragon after?” He asks, trying to alter the course of the conversation slightly. He knows that pushing any further into raw emotions and feelings was a deep topic for the both of them right now, and one which would be better left closed for the time being. Thankfully Dorian takes the bait of distraction, as he answers.

“Well, after I did _finally_ manage to put a shield up over you so that it couldn’t shoot any electric your way, Bull and Sera charged against it. You were right by the way, if you’d care to know; it didn’t have much fight left in it to go before the dragon fell. I should warn you however that Sera is just as unhappy with you right now as I am. In one last desperate attempt to shake her off the dragon shot an electric bolt her way. Sera managed to dodge it, but her bow didn’t. She says you owe her a new one once you’re back doing all your Inquisitorial duties.”

Oscar can't help but to huff out a small laugh at that, trying carefully not to shake his chest too much.

“I’m surprised she doesn’t just ask Cassandra if she can search through whatever the dragon managed to hoard when she goes to retrieve anything useful for the Inquisition.”

“Oh, she’s very much done that,” Dorian says. “As soon as they were both certain all you needed was to rest, her and Bull offered to go with Cassandra and her men to search through whatever was left. But don’t think you’re getting out of being in her debt that easily. I think even if she finds one which she takes a liking to Sera's still determined to ask for one just out of revenge for making her worry about you.”

“If it makes her feel any better I’ll see what I've kept stored away from our travels then,” Oscar tilts his head slightly, watching Dorian curiously. “What can I do for you to make you feel better, though? It seems I owe you more than a simple apology for worrying you.”

Leaning forward, Dorian brings his lips to meet Oscar’s forehead. Carefully he moves the hand which is pressed against his cheek and rests it between the both of them, intertwining his fingers with Oscar’s as he smiles down at him. It’s the first smile Oscar’s seen from him since he’s woken that holds no sadness or fear within it; instead just one which shows how thankful Dorian is that Oscar appears to otherwise be well.

“You worry about that when you’re back to your usual, ‘busy with saving the world’ self,” says Dorian. He carefully presses their foreheads together, causing Oscar’s eyes to close at the intimacy. “Until then, just focus on healing. I’m supposed to be making sure you rest for a few more days before we all start heading back to Skyhold.”

“It’s going to be very boring just resting and sleeping here all the time, you know,” Oscar says, although his words already begin to fill with the growing desire to fall back to sleep. Dorian pulls away slightly, although Oscar can still sense he’s sitting beside him even as he gives one last squeeze to his hand before letting go.

“You’re not very convincing. Just rest, _amatus_. It’s the most important thing for you right now.”

* * *

Once he’s sure Oscar is sleeping once more, Dorian decides to stay by his side for a while longer before eventually leaving the tent. As reassuring as watching the sleeping figure of the man had been before, having spoken to Oscar now helps Dorian to finally relax. His hands finally feel steady from how they had been shaking off and on with his own fear. At last he can let himself truly believe Oscar will be fine again once he has recovered from his injuries, and Dorian can allowing himself to entertain the thought that knowing Oscar as well as he does, he doesn’t expect it to take all that long until Oscar’s back to his political duties at least.

It’s like waking up from a two-day long nightmare of waiting either by Oscar's side or sitting among the rest of the group, and Dorian remains lost in his own relieved thoughts even as he walks further into the space of the camp. It’s not until a voice at the workbench to his left speaks that he even realises how caught up in them he is, and he stares in the direction where a familiar, equally well dressed mage is busy working to craft potions.

“I take it our Lord Inquisitor is awake?”

Dorian turns to Vivienne, watching as she continued on with what she was doing before nodding in response.

“He was, but he’s resting again now.”

“How was he?” She asks. A small smile threatens to tug itself upon Dorian’s lips as his thoughts return to Oscar.

“About as much the same as he usually is. He says that he aches however, and it took him a moment to remember why, exactly, that was. But otherwise he’s tired but well.”

“That is pleasing news for us all,” Vivienne says. Dorian suspects she lets out a relieved breath of her own from his words, yet he couldn’t be certain with how she's still not facing him. She pauses in her work to finally turn to look at him as she continues. “I trust it’ll mean you’ll stop pacing so much now also. I feel it is a shock to us all that your feet haven’t left a track in the ground by now.”

“Forgive me for simply being concerned for his health,” Dorian replies with a frown, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I told you he’d be fine. Inquisitor Trevelyan carries the strength of a lion, and we were able to see to his injuries promptly.” Vivienne focuses back on her work, letting a quiet moment pass between them. She eventually halts once more, glancing over her shoulder towards where Dorian still stands idly, as if sensing he was there. “My dear, If you’d like something to do to take your mind off things right now until the others return then you are welcome to help me with the elfroot here for these potions. They’ll likely come in handy for when our dear friend wakes again later.”

Dorian considers the option before making his way towards the workbench. He uncrosses his arms and looks down at the various herbs and plants which have been gathered during this trip, and after spotting the familiar green leaves of the elfroot that's so often littered around the landscape, let’s out a sigh.

“Let it be known that I’m only doing this for Oscar’s benefit. I am in no way asking for your friendly company right now.”

“Of course, Dorian,” Vivienne agrees, giving a single, simple nod.

A little later, Vivienne tries to hide her own amusement under an expression of neutrality as Dorian begins striking up his usual, admittedly interesting conversations with her whilst the two of them work. Not asking for the company of a friend, indeed.


End file.
